


Heat

by wowsonny



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop, Real Person Fiction
Genre: AU, Bromance, Cute, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, One Shot, Oppa, Overprotective, POV Third Person Omniscient, Romance, Short & Sweet, flicking, never since birth have i, overprotective Song Mingi, playful Choi San, romantic, soft angst, someone dies btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowsonny/pseuds/wowsonny
Summary: "What are you doing...?""I have to keep you as warm as possible...and skin is hotter than fabric."
Relationships: Choi San/Song Mingi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 46





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this on Valentine's Day <3 enjoy!

Mingi sat the edge of his snowboard against the snow, holding it up with the front of his boot. 

"It's a little cold," San said as he came up beside him. He copied his friend's snowboarder pose, then reached into his coat pocket for his phone.

"I told you," Mingi replied to him with a turn of his head, his eyes setting on the shorter. "You should've worn more layers."

San whined. "I thought you were just being overprotective--"

"Never since birth have I been _over_ protective-"

"Like when you said to leave our phones at the cabin?" San said, raising his eyebrows with his teasing smile as he pulled his empty hand from his pocket. He didn't need that phone to tell him the temperature, anyways. It was easily subzero. 

"That wasn't overprotective, that was smart. We would've lost them if we brought them with-"

"Fine, then how about when you wouldn't let me go to that party? Or that time when you wouldn't let my sister go out with that guy just because he 'looked suspicious'?"

Mingi's face turned stern, head tilting to one side. San only grinned. He let go of the snowboard so it'd fall to touch the drop of the slope.

"Wait," Mingi told him, grabbing his bare wrist. "Tuck your gloves around your sleeves before you go."

San laughed. "Okay, Oppa~"

"I'm gonna beat you."

"I haven't even attached my feet yet!" He brought his snowboard back and stood on it, bending down to fasten his boots to the board. "You worry too much, Mingki."

"You're so bratty," Mingi huffed. "It's gonna get you killed."

San smiled down at his board, then moved that smile to be up at his friend. "I love you, Mingki," he said teasingly.

The taller, knowing he could blame the cold for his blushing, feigned a coy smile. "I'm swooning."

San stood to his full height, ready to go. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes. Mingi watched him, looking over him to make sure everything was right. 

It was only San's first day snowboarding, but he was a quick learner. Mingi, who'd taken forever to get the hang of it with even Yeosang teaching him, was proud-- well, mostly proud. The other fraction of him was bothered by San's flippancy, especially when it came to important matters like covering up.

The playful boy had no idea how much he worried Mingi.

The taller reached out to fix San's coat, pulling the gloves around his sleeves as he'd told him to do before. San watched him with a big, annoying grin.

"I know I tease you about it a lot," San began, "but I really do like when you take care of me like this."

Mingi glanced at him. He then moved his eyes down to the torso, slipping his hands up San's coat to make sure his shirt was still tucked in. 

"You'd rather be doing this to my sister, huh?" San asked now. His face had become more serious when Mingi brought his eyes up to look at him. "I already told you, didn't I? You can date her. I approve of you." 

Mingi's hands slipped around the tiny waist, taking advantage of the shirt-tucking excuse. "I don't want to date her," Mingi said. He pulled his hands out from the coat.

"Then how come you always want to come over to my house-"

Mingi brought San's face mask up over his mouth. "You're ready to go now," he said blankly. He bent over to attach his feet to his board. "I'll catch up to you. Don't go too fast and if you need to stop, be gradual with turning horizontal."

A muffled okay came from the boy, and he moved forward to the drop of the slope. He gave one more dispirited look at Mingi before leaning forward and taking on the beginner's trail. 

Mingi observed him as he stood up, as he readied himself to drop. He could tell from there that San wasn't secured properly to his snowboard. He could only blame himself for not triple-checking.

So once he triple-checked himself, he dropped into the slope, not going as fast as he could just so he could stay behind San in case he did wipe out. He knew it would happen. San didn't have balance as it was, and keeping himself steady on an unstable snowboard would be nothing short of a miracle.

There was a strong gust of wind suddenly, moving Mingi sharply to the left. He steadied his board again, his breath getting heavy, his heart having jumped.

He returned his gaze to the less fortunate. Inevitably, it'd happened. Mingi braked hard--not at all gradual as he'd told San. He fell back into the snow just a couple yards behind the grounded male.

With anxiety taking him, he bent his knees and leaned forward to fumble with the bindings. San had fallen into a deep section of fresh snow. He must've been freezing. The situation probably wasn't as severe as his mind thought, but Mingi wasn't taking any chances. Not with San.

He brought himself to his feet quickly despite the growing wind, his visibility shrinking from the flurrying snow. Taking long and careful steps had him at the fallen male in less than a minute.

"San!" he called out when he arrived. He couldn't hear very well. His heart was in his skull. He collapsed to his knees in the soft fluff.

The boy had his arms in front of his face to hide it from the cold wind. One of his gloves was gone from the fall. He hadn't had a plan, really. All he knew was that the wind was way too overpowering for his weak body to beat.

"Here," Mingi said, swinging a leg around San's to be in front of him so the wind wouldn't abuse him anymore. "Get up."

San slowly brought his arms away. The first thing he saw was the black of Mingi's coat and he immediately reached for it, clutched at it. Mingi sent his arms around the back of his friend to pull him further out. It was a weak success. San’s temperature still declined. Snow had slipped down his coat and up his sleeves, and it even seemed to have seeped into his face mask.

Mingi's heart beat louder. "We have to get you to the bottom right now," he said, urgent and nervous. 

San smiled despite the burning cold. "Overprotective."

Mingi ignored the joke, glancing over his shoulder. He cursed quietly, looked back at San who had his forehead against his coat to block out the cold ineffectively. Mingi sent both hands down to the hem of his coat and lifted it, bringing it as far over San as he could. The way he clutched at the inner coat was already worrisome. San was getting weak.

Leaning backward slowly, he reached his arms behind him to blindly undo San's bindings. His anxiety made him rush. He might've finished quicker if he'd taken his time, but it was done. He’d freed San's feet from the snowboard.

Mingi knew there was no point trying to get to the bottom of the slope. They weren't even halfway down. To make matters worse, San wasn't strong enough for that wind, and Mingi wasn't either.

Hell, they could barely see anything.

Mingi pulled his coat over his mouth. "Here's what we're gonna do," he said hurriedly. "We're gonna stand up, and you're gonna put your arms around me, okay? I'll lead us somewhere. Got it?"

"If you say so, Oppa..."

_This man._

Mingi lifted his coat from around San so he could begin to stand. Fighting the pressure of the gusts against his back had to be the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he did it. He did it for San.

He grabbed the boy by his upper arms when he reached them out. Using all he had, he helped him get to his feet. That was complete. They were standing.

Now, if Mingi could remember....

It shouldn't be far, he'd figured. There were plenty of small emergency cabins along the slope. The only difficulty would be finding one.

"Let's go, San," Mingi said as he fixed the boy's hood around his head. He stuck the Velcro patches together to secure it, patting San's head before turning around and grabbing his arms to force them around his waist. San came against his back. 

Mingi wished he could savor that feeling, but the escalating fear inside him easily overpowered his desires. He walked down the slope diagonally. Getting to the side trails was his goal now, but he should’ve been quicker. By the time he did make it there was nothing but vivid white.

He reached up to wipe his goggles with his glove, but it wasn't his goggles making him blind. It was the snow. There was so much snow. Mingi grabbed San's hands and pushed them up under his coat, up under his inner coat. He had to keep that boy as warm as possible. San grabbed at Mingi's shirt now, focusing on nothing else. Mingi would keep him safe. He knew it. 

But Mingi had a time limit. San was only getting weaker.

He kept pushing forward in the snow, keeping his eyes peeled for anything brown. Brown had to stand out against that bright white. Anything should stand out in that bright white. He was so disoriented. He couldn't tell the difference between left, or right, or up, down...

Luck.

A lucky moment of stalled wind. 

There was a gap in the white that let him see-- really see. The nearest cabin was just a quick, diagonal path downhill and to the right.

His sight was taken again. Figuring it'd be easier, he shut his eyes completely.

_Downhill to the right. Downhill to the right. Downhill to the right._

He was careful. He couldn't fall. If he fell, there was no telling he'd get back up. But he had to move fast. He had to be quick. The clock was running out and he knew that. Feeling the snow lighten under his feet, he opened his eyes.

Brown!

He reached for the beautiful, earthy color desperately, hand against wood. He laughed proudly. "San," he said. "We made it, San."

The smaller boy held on tighter in response, not wanting to pull his face away from the other’s safe back. He heard a door open, shuffled his feet behind Mingi's until he felt the wind disappear. San opened his eyes.

The cabin was small, but he wasn't complaining. Anything beat outside. Anything beat that wind, that snow. That cold still existed within the little building, though. If anything, being in there only delayed San's death.

Mingi closed the door, locking the knob to secure it shut. San still had his arms around him. Mingi was so warm... at least, warmer than San.

He unzipped his coat, though, and San let go of him only out of courtesy. Mingi turned to face his friend, looking him up and down with a hurting heart. San had become a wet and violently trembling mess. His blushing flesh was so pink, so bright, so _frightening_. A despairing sight. Mingi could only blame himself.

"I don't feel good, Mingki," the mess mumbled.

"I know."

Mingi unzipped the boy's soaked coat, pulling it off him. San looked up at him confusedly. 

"Why are you-"

"You won't warm up if your clothes are wet." Mingi dropped the heavy clothing to the floor. "Lift your arms."

San obeyed his demand and feebly brought his arms up, needing Mingi's help halfway. The taller's chest really hurt right then, his heart twisting in such brutal ways.

He pulled San's shirt off. Using it as a towel, he wiped the excess snow off the thin torso before dropping it into a discard pile with the useless coat.

It was so difficult for Mingi. Watching San shiver like that had to be the worst form of torture.

So he took his coat off, dropping it into the pile among the other wet clothes. His inner coat came off next. He sent it around behind his friend and held it as he put his arms through the sleeves. Mingi's warmth was still absorbed into that fabric. San welcomed it.

Then Mingi moved into the cabin, headed for a stack of firewood sitting on a mobile rack.

The cabin didn't have much. Other than that rack, the fireplace, and a large cedar chest, there was nothing but walls and floor with the futile bonus of a poorly insulated window that pooled the white light inside.

Mingi finished setting up the stack of firewood, grabbing at the pile of newspapers and placing pieces between the logs strategically.

San bounced on his feet to create heat, but it didn't work very well. He moved further into the center of the cabin. Wearing that single inner coat was already better than his bulky one; Mingi's jacket was a few sizes bigger than what San would wear, and it was perfect for enveloping him in warmth. It was a shame that San just couldn't seem to warm up.

Mingi struck a single match and dropped it against a newspaper, the immediate fire drawing San to his friend as he stood up. Mingi faced him. His arms came around him. He held him. San leaned against that broad shoulder, envying the steady body against his shaking one.

"Are we gonna die?" San asked, genuinely fearful. He pressed further against his friend.

Mingi only stroked his hair. "I'm not letting that happen."

San smiled. If Mingi said it, it had to be true! He would never lie.

"Sit down in front of the fire for a moment, okay, San? I'll get you a blanket."

San nodded, but only pulled away when Mingi passed beside him. He sat down as told. Boring. There was nothing to do except watch the smoke rise up into the aged chimney.

Mingi opened the cedar chest, the creak peaking San’s interest and thus making his head turn. Watching Mingi was much more entertaining. His gray compression shirt was tight on him, exposing his shape completely. San's friend really was muscular, wasn't he? Being protected by him would make anyone feel safe. 

No wonder San's sister liked him so much. They'd be so cute together, wouldn't they?

San turned his head back to blazing orange as Mingi began his way back. It wasn't long before Mingi draped a large, soft quilt around him. He made sure to cover every little part of San, even going so far as to tuck it beneath his feet. 

Then he left his side again.

San was fine. He wasn't worried as long as Mingi was confident. But if Mingi were confident, would he really be doing so much? Right then, he was using their wet clothes to insulate the bottom of the door, even covering the window in San's wet coat with the intention to keep the leaking cold out. It doubled as a blind; the inside of the cabin was robbed of the bright white and replaced with the dim bronze.

For that, San was grateful. He never wanted to see snow again in his short lifetime. His eyes were so sore. He was so tired.

Mingi sat down behind him, brought his arms around him, brought his legs beside him. San seemed so small as he relaxed back against him-- he felt so small. He felt so weak. He couldn't warm up even with that fire, even with Mingi's heat enveloping him. The younger pulled him into his lap. 

San swallowed, body shaking. "I'm scared, Mingki...."

There was a feeling in Mingi-- a weight in his chest that only got heavier and stronger. San admitting his fear was just enough to make it hurt. San never admitted his fear. Never aloud-- not even when they watched scary movies or went to haunted houses in October. Cuddling up to Mingi was the closest he'd ever gotten to admission, but San always cuddled up to Mingi. That was normal. This wasn't normal.

Hooking his chin over San's unstable shoulder, Mingi asked, calmly, "Are you warming up?"

San leaned his head against Mingi's. "I'm so cold..."

The set-up they had wasn't working. It made sense that it wasn't. San's body couldn't heat up, so what good would a blanket do? There was no heat for it to trap, anyway. 

San pushed his nose against Mingi's cheek. "You're so warm, Mingki...."

And now Mingi had a new plan. He left the comfortable position behind San to kneel beside him. Then, swiping the blanket from around him, he left his bare upper body exposed again. His horrible shivering worsened. 

"What are you doing...?" 

Mingi was too focused on his rush to respond. He pulled his shirt off. San's eyes went wide. They went even wider when Mingi's hands dove for his belt.

San swallowed. He'd heard the heaviness in Mingi's breathing, but he had no idea it was because of this. Mingi pulled the cold pants down to San's knees and moved on to untie his boots. San didn't know what to say or how to say it-- he just watched tiredly.

His boots came off, then his wet socks, then his pants. San watched with a different blush. All he was covered in now was his boxers, but soon, Mingi, stripped down similarly, had come on top of him with the quilt around his back to cover him up snugly. 

"Better?" Mingi panted out, face close. 

San nodded honestly. He didn't say a word about what he'd thought Mingi was doing, only put his trembling hands up against his warm chest to use him as a furnace. Right then, Mingi was his furnace.

"You could've just covered me in all our clothes instead of stripping us down like this," San said, smiling.

Mingi took comfort in that smile. If San could joke, then Mingi felt successful.

"I have to keep you as warm as possible," the taller responded. "And skin is hotter than fabric."

That was only a partial truth; any fabric was warmer than San right then.

"Overprotective," the small boy teased again, making Mingi laugh and bring a hand up to push his hair back. San's pretty eyes looked so sleepy up close. He smelled so good up close. 

He felt so good up close.

The fire's light cast a shadow on San's face so beautifully in that position. Mingi couldn't ignore how perfect the male was, even when dying.

Mingi reached beneath him for San's hands, their chill against his chest driving him up the wall. He brought them up between their mouths smartly. Mingi's large hands felt so good against them; his hot breath felt so good against them. San watched his eyes, watched their caring focus on those hands. San was so lucky.

But he wasn't lucky. 

"Mingki," San said, his eyelids heavy.

Mingi still didn't speak, but he met that stare. That stare.

"Thank you," San said softly. "Thank you for always taking care of me...."

Mingi's eyes darted around San's face suddenly, looking down at the hands, looking down between their chests. He hadn't realized it until that moment, but San was still as cold as before. If he could feel San's heart over his own erratic one, he'd know just how dangerously slow it was.

San smiled at his friend. "You're the perfect Oppa."

Mingi was scared, more scared than he'd ever been. San should be warm enough! San was warm enough. He just needed rest. He needed rest so his body could return to homeostasis.

"Mingi," San said to grab his attention, to grab his eye contact.

It worked, and Mingi looked at him. And he couldn't look away. And he was crying. Mingi was crying. Why was he crying?

San pressed his hands down between their chests again, taking the obstacle between their mouths away. San gave those lips a glance. Mingi's stomach turned. The way San looked at him...

It had Mingi thinking that maybe he wanted it too.

Slowly, he moved his hands up to cover the boy's cheeks and ears. San's shut his eyes blissfully when his cold face was touched. Those large, warm hands felt so amazing against him. He wanted more against him.

He must've made that known one way or another. He could feel Mingi move closer, could feel his hands plant against Mingi's chest, could feel Mingi's hair graze his forehead, could feel Mingi's breath on his lips.

Could feel Mingi’s lips on his lips.

It was one kiss. It was to test him. It was to see if San really wanted it.

San really wanted it. 

He sent his hands up Mingi's chest to meet his shoulders, opening his eyes to meet the dark ones. Neither of them really knew what to say in this moment's hesitation, so San sent his arms up around Mingi's neck. He made it known again.

Mingi gave in again.

He kissed San again and it was, safe to say, more than just the peck from before. San was summoning all his strength for this one kiss, moving his head up to build advantage against Mingi who was so incredibly talented at teasing his lips. San gave him his tongue, took such a leap. He was playing a dangerous game. Only a dying person would be so shameless.

But Mingi liked shameless. He craved it. He fell for it. He was willing to stop breathing for it. In a way he had stopped breathing for it. His mouth was clearly occupied with devouring San's lips, and his nose could only take in San's smell anyway. He had no complaints. San was delicious. 

San must've gotten stronger from it-- his arms pulled Mingi down tighter, he kissed harder. Maybe that heat in his core was all he needed to be saved.

No, it wouldn't be. As hot as that kiss was making him, it was nothing external. It was in his head. San was still freezing, still shivering up a storm. Mingi was shaking, too, but, well, that was from something completely different. 

He couldn't get enough of San.

And San could tell-- he could really tell. Mingi had been slow, always careful, always cautious when taking big steps like these. But now he was fast. He was urgent, and needy, and shameless just as San was. Neither minded the pace. The pace was hot. San needed hot. Mingi gave him hot.

Then, without warning, San released a choked moan against him. It'd made him tired-- he was too tired. He couldn't keep up with Mingi's hunger anymore and it was obvious.

So Mingi detached. But he didn't move back.

He lingered there with eyes glazed over, feeling San's uneven breaths, feeling his chest heave against his. When Mingi leaned just a little bit closer he could feel San's wet lips, too. It was Mingi who'd made them wet. It was Mingi who'd saved him. It was Mingi who just couldn't wrap his head around why San was still so fucking _cold._

But he couldn't really wrap his head around anything. There was so much going on. San was beneath him. San liked him back. They'd finally kissed. All was well....

Mingi must've known the truth deep down. His tears still fell. His chest still hurt. It was like he could feel the impending despair already-- or, at least, the tip of it. 

San opened his sleepy eyes. Mingi brought their foreheads together. 

San smiled.

Truth be told, he was trying so incredibly hard not to tear up. He knew he couldn't make it harder for the younger. He had to be a good Hyung. So he swallowed his fears, moved his arms down to wrap around Mingi's back instead. Then, in a low whisper, he said, "I want to sleep, Mingki...."

And Mingi nodded at it, understanding the smaller one's fatigue completely. His hands left the cute face before fixing the blanket around them. Then Mingi looked at San with a light smile to contrast his wet eyes.

San got a good look at him one last time. "Good night, Mingki." 

It was still the middle of the day.

The younger leaned down to kiss the corner of his lips delicately, then laid his head on the boy's chest. Suddenly, the beating of his heart was clear to him-- well, faint. He figured he wasn't hearing very well.

"Good night, San," he said happily.

"Good night, Mingi...."

...

The fire had burned down to just one log, giving off only half the heat it gave off hours ago. Mingi opened his eyes just to shut them again. At some point the coat had fallen from that window and white poured into the room again. The wind seemed to have stopped though. No more blowing snow.

Mingi was still on top of San's cold body, cozied up against him like they were a couple. He pushed his nose to the still neck, smiling softly as he reached up to play with the boy's hair.

He lifted his head, opened his eyes slowly to adjust to the brightness. "San," he said. "San, we made it."

San slept still. He must've been so tired. Poor San. He looked so pale. 

Mingi decided to let him sleep. They were safe now, so one more hour wouldn't hurt. The male brought his head back down against the quiet chest and relaxed. But something about it rattled him, frightened him. Something wasn't right. He knew something wasn't right.

No, it was okay. All was well.

But he sat up now, coming to his knees with his hands coming to San's face. He shook him lightly. How selfish of him! Had he forgotten how tired San had been?

He grabbed the cold arm then. He pulled it desperately.

"San," he practically shouted. "San, wake up. We made it! We can get help now."

The arm slipped from his grip, fell limply against the cold floor. He'd been stupid. He should've had San on top of him so he could hold him, so he could keep the blanket tight around him, so he could save him from the chill of that cabin's floor. It was his fault. He could only blame himself. But San wasn't dead!

"San, baby..."

He was playing games. He had to be. Mingi could make out a light smile on his lips! He was alive!

"San!"

He shook him a little more roughly, fear taking him. San's head fell to the side.

"San, i-if you don't stop messing around, I'll kiss you! I'll do it!"

He came down on him desperately, holding his small face and tasting his dead lips that had been so wet and alive _just hours ago_. His heavily heaving chest pressed against the still one in frenzy. He moved back to look to see if his friend had awakened, and he must've! San was crying-! No. No, those weren't San's tears slipping down toward his ears, but he was alive. Surely!

"San, it's not funny!"

He pressed his head against the pale neck, against the artery of stale blood. 

"You're fine, see! I can hear your heart!" Mingi's heart was in his skull. It was all he could hear.

"San, I know your biggest secrets-- I'll tell people about your plushies!"

He laughed manically through his tears, clutching roughly at the other’s small shoulders. San moved. He moved San. He shook San. San wasn't fucking dead!

"San, wake the fuck up!"

He gritted his teeth as he let go of the corpse and moved off it. "You're being stupid!"

He took the blanket and wrapped the boy up tightly like a newborn baby, then turned to the ashes in the fireplace. He put more newspaper down, placed more wood, lit a match. Fire again. There was fire. The fire should've blazed forever with how much wood he'd put down!

How long had they slept? How long had Mingi slept? Why had he let himself sleep?

The blanketed body was taken into the arms of the killer. Mingi pulled the head against his chest, draped the long, slack legs over his thigh. He cradled the body, rocked back and forth. To and from. San's lips fell apart. Life!

Mingi kissed him again, felt him, tasted the dry mouth. San was fine. San was okay. _San was not dead._

Mingi laughed. "I'm laughing now, San! It's funny!" His hand held the side of his face firmly, kept him. "But wake up now. Wake up and laugh with me, yeah?"

He kissed his friend again, lingering there, knowing the truth but keeping himself from it like a child. "I'll let you win," he said from close, "I'll let you win the cham cham game!"

"San!"

"San, wake up!"

He screamed, anguish tearing, ripping him apart like a scalpel to flesh. He shook the corpse violently in his arms, the blanketed baby's exanimate brain hemorrhaging

"I'll- I'll flick you really hard!"

San budged. He budged! Mingi cracked a rough laugh. He shook him again. He laughed again. "San, you're funny!"

Suddenly he moved back from the vigorous flames, the sweat running down his face becoming burdensome. He pulled the heavy dead weight on top of himself, laying on the floor with San's head against him before he loosened up the blanket to pull the pale arms out. He wrapped them around his neck like he'd imagined San to do. Then, laying another unreciprocated kiss on him, he pulled away to scold him, saying, "Quit playing hard-to-get!"

"You're so cute, San."

"I love when you hold me like this, San..."

Mingi laughed again. "Tell me that joke you love!"

"You're so funny, San."

He wrapped his arms around the small body in stark despair. His rapid heart slowed.

"San...."

Mingi put his hand up into the soft hair. San was still alive. Mingi believed it. No way could San be dead!

"Mm, I love you, San."

There was a hit that came to the door, making Mingi look toward it. He tightened his hold around the body and looked at San with wide eyes. "San, they're here to save us, San!"

Another hit, and the door caught on the coat. Mingi laughed.

"We're going home, San."

The door busted open, slamming against the wall from the rude force of the officers. They stepped inside, swapped glances. A half-naked man held a dead body, laughing.

_Laughing!_

Mingi smiled widely at them, all cheerful. He looked at his best friend. "San, we're saved!"

The hot tears in his eyes-- that's why the rest of him was so cold! He screamed suddenly, really screamed, and anguish did him in as he slammed his head back against the floor.

He laughed again.

"Let's date, San."


End file.
